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Before I had my pico-de-yoppo episode, we’d been on a chicken wing tear, here are the findings.

Grilled Wings:
Top honors go to Austin Grill. (The spice is unbeatable, and the house made Ranch dressing for dipping is perfection)
Second place is Hard Times Cafe. (Great flavoring and served smoking hot temp.)

Fried WIngs:
Top honors go to Buffalo Wild Wings. (OMFG … Asian Zing, Honey BBQ)
Second place is Cluck You. (Don’t let the cover of this book fool you, made to order. When they say “HOT”, believe it.)

Erin sprints from the couch the other evening, just making it to the kitchen sink, barf, yak, spew, yop. I know … kitchen sink. That was my first thought until I realized Erin’s stomach tsunami could have cascaded down on our fairly new Crate&Barrel couch, ouch. So why, after watching my poor little bunny throw up ALL of her carrots did I NOT deviate from my eating plans for the night? Major mistake.

Here’s a big f’in tip for you. IF you ever have another family member get the yops, change your eating plans IMMEDIATELY. Do not continue on with your plans of eating homemade chicken salad with bacon strips and a side of tortillas with spicy pico-de-gallo. Think of it as “what food can I live without for several years?” Because you know what, when you’re bent over your toilet a few scant hours later, the last thing you want to “taste” again is spicy pico-de-gallo with subtle hints of bacon. That stays with you, believe me.

As soon as the other person starts barking, get thee to crackers and water and live with it. And if you’re the unfortunate one to kick things off for your family, between hurls tell all that will listen, “crackers and water, crackers and water …”

LOVE this stuff. Love it.  Smells great, feels clean and has a nice refill. I’ve been trying to get in line about not using anti-bacterial soap. If you have kids you’ve no doubt gotten the lecture from your Ped. about too much use of anti-bacterial products be no good. Seems overuse can help germs build immunity to antibiotics, wha? Trouble is, everything is anti-bacterial, soap, tissues, you name it.

So finally found Method Foaming Hand Wash and there ain’t no going back. Other pump hand soaps are too gooey, (Dial) or too anti-bacterially (Softsoap). BTW- If you ever want to see something funny, check out my wife when she has to use a shitty gas station bathroom. That alone is funny, but when she comes out with her hands held up like she’s getting robbed, its a good indicator the soap (if there is any) smells like ass.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not anti anti-bacterial. Oh no, I love me some antibiotics when me or my gals are sick. Problem with that is you’re reduced to lying like a bastard to get it. I just want some of dat pink stuff or maybe a little ol Z pak. Thats all.

Me, “Uh, yeah Doctor, uh, yeah, my uh, yeah … fever for 7 months now. Whassat? oh, uh … about 107 degrees … yeah shakes … vomiting? … oh yeah, big on that, big on that. Whassat? diarrhea? … oh yeah, pure squirts there, pure squirts … Whassat? throat? oh … (close eyed gulp for effect ) on FIRE, on FIRE“

I find that that kind of plea usually works. Be sure to mention your throat is on FIRE! That is critical to your success, it says BACTERIA writ large. You may want to spray some red dye in there to complete the illusion. What you DO NOT want to hear is the term “Viral”. Viral means you ain’t getting shit.

And that’s why I love Method Hand Soap.

I’m out today doing what I shouldn’t be doing: Eating fried chicken at Popeyes. Luv the spicy white 2pc and mashers with cajun gravy all washed down with a gallon of Diet Coke elixir of the Gods. Sad. Anyhoot, as I’m contemplating my choice for dining in the “dining room” I notice a Popeyes employee cleaning the tables. Okay so far, looks like some sort of antiseptic blue liquid . . . I’m cool with germ killing blue liquids. Looks like she’s giving the tabletop a good going-over with the death-to-germs soaked rag. And then I see it.

Uh oh . . .

In the blink of an eye, the tabletop rag has morphed into the seat cleaning rag . . . or ass wipe rag. “Oh no, no, no, . . . nooooooooooooooooo,” she takes the newly morphed ass wipe rag and moves to the next table and  . . . yep . . . it’s now the tabletop rag again. Ass to mouth, mouth to ass, repeat and rinse. Man-o-man. Actually, this is nothing new, I’ve seen this scene repeated many times in many places . . . appetizing.

I do have one bright spot to report: Roy Rogers. I was in a Roy’s in Gaithersburg one fine day getting my Roast Beast on when I spied the ubiquitous bucket of blue. Only this time it had some lettering on it. The lettering said, “For Tabletops ONLY!”

Yes, that’s what I’m talking about. Someone somewhere gets it: “Oh, table wipes are table wipes, and ass wipes are ass wipes, and never the twain shall meet.” Apologies to Kipling.

Come home the other day and there is a message from the school nurse. Erin has hurt her finger at recess, she’s fine, no need to rush to school. OK. We get her at the bus stop, she said she hurt it during Dodgeball . . . she wasn’t really looking when the ball was thrown at her. . .  yes, she cried a lot.  (The other version was she wasn’t even playing, or looking but got hit anyway.)

When we get home Lisa takes a look at it and sez, “I think that’s broken, I’m going to take her to the pediatrician.” So she does, yep, x-ray confirms broken. We should see an ortho sez the peds. OK. So we do . . . or rather Erin and I do . . . Mommy has a dental appointment. I suspect nothing. Remember, Lisa’s dad was an ortho doc. Keep that in mind. See me and Erin laughing all the way to the Dr’s office. La de da. Sez me, “Oh they’ll just confirm it’s broken and change the splint to a nicer one, we shouldn’t be there long.” “Cool.” sez Erin. La de da.

“Yep, it’s broken,” sez the doc. Then he turns to unsuspecting me and sez under his breath, “We’re gonna have to set it.” I’m thinking, “By set it you mean . . .” Then I’m thinking, “Lisa = dentist appointment?” No way she could have set me up for this, how would she know Erin would break her pinkie . . . oh never mind. My thoughts were quickly interrupted by Erin who has sensed the shift of the wind, much like a scared antelope who smells a Tiger about but can’t quite see it . . . yet.  Sez the doctor, “Oh now don’t worry, we’ll give you some numbing medicine so you won’t feel anything . . . then I’ll just move your pinkie back to the way it was.” Erin sez, “What does the numbing medicine taste like?” That’s where I nearly cried. “Oh, it’s not medicine that you take by mouth, it’s a SHOT WE GIVE YOU IN YOUR HAND.” Read more »

First day at our new pool, Northwest Branch. In the water with Erin who recently broke her finger playing/not playing dodgeball. We have her hand wrapped in plastic so as not to get it wet. Ooops, got it wet anyway :-) Erin spies a little pal from RMSC practice group. The conversation goes like this:

Little Pal, “What happened to your finger?”
Erin, “Broke it playing dodgeball.”
Little Pal, “Well, at least you didn’t break your neck and get paralyzed.”

I just want to say up front that we’re not the kid-overscheduling-parent types. But I guess having 2 daughters play on 3 different softball teams, 3 games per week, plus 3 practices just wasn’t enough for us. Throw in a few pitching and hitting clinics plus getting at least 100 swings a day in, well . . .  Why not join a swim practice group to get ready for a summer swim team that we’re not even on?

Enter RMSC practice swim group. The girls have never been part of a practice swim group, much less a swim team. This is a practice group to get one ready for summer swim teams, which I’ve been led to believe are fun affairs and not as serious as fall swim teams. Let’s hope so cuz I was ready to hurl after watching how many laps my gals went through on the first practice. Whoa, they ain’t playing these RMSCers!

After the third set of “give me 10 fifties, freestyle,” Lisa and I catch the attention of Austen as she is about to make the turn for another lap. She clearly mouths us this concise message, “I hate this.” Okay. Read more »

It was just too nice today to sit around. So, last minute TheDadReport crew ran up to Baltimore to catch the Orioles vs. Yankees (cuz the Nats were out of town). It was hard to tell who the home team was. There were as many Yankee fans as O’s fans. Reminds me of a Nats game last year vs. Cubs, it was a sea of Cub blue. Hate that shit. In fact just today Tom Boswell wrote about Gnat President Stan Kasten inviting Philly fans down to Nats town, wtf? Put real MLB playas on the field and we won’t have to ask hated rivals like Philly to bring down some more of their obnoxious ilk. For that matter, you could put my daughter’s softball team out there and I’d still never want a Philly, Cub, Marlin or Met fan in the house.  Read more »

This morning, me and Mrs. Dad Report decided to run down to Einstein Bros to pick up a few bagels. We’re sitting at the light where Franklin Avenue runs into Colesville Road. As the light changes on the Colesville side from green to yellow, a minivan coming down Colesville (South) tries to stop. He slams on the brakes and starts skidding through the light. At the same time there is a man walking down the sidewalk on the same side of the road.

As the van is skidding, the driver oversteers and the van flips over onto its top and is skidding toward the man walking. Fortunately the man was aware of what was coming and nimble enough to move out of the way. The van skidded to a halt, half in the street and half on the sidewalk. Read more »

That’s what we heard from daughter #1 on her second night away at Outdoor Ed.

A little background. In MOCO the middle schools have something called Outdoor Ed. It’s a 2 day retreat where the kids learn team building skills, hike, check the health of streams etc. We were a little nervous about letting her go. The dorms are separated by gender, there are high school counselors and the teachers sleep in the same building.

How bad could it be? What could possibly happen? She’s not even that far away? Relax.

I went to all of the informational meetings at school and it seemed like it would be a great experience. One thing the teachers told us, expect little to no communication from our kids. Cellphones not allowed. IF they had time they might give us a prison-like 15 seconds of an update. Okay, I’m not all that worried.  Read more »